#Curling Tong

[heeytwelve]

Old drawing of white lotus starry eyed teen Binghe :)

[aljordandraws]

may I suggest a Dandelion in "Fallen" or "Oath of the Drowned?"

I still have to do Oath of the Drowned but here's Fallen for the bard YOU infected me with brainrot for. I wanted to try painting this in a Lucifer esque style. You know the one painting. For more colour palettes send an ask with a request!

[xoluvx]

cowgirl; b.eilish

[▸] cowgirl by nicki minaj smut

"save a horse. ride a cowgirl, right?" you whispered in her ear, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. the cup in your hand was empty, but your craving for her was filled to the brim. you needed her. you needed her bad.

when she sauntered into the party with that costume, you hadn't expected to have such a visceral reaction. your eyes locked on the cute strawberry blonde cowgirl. tracking her like a predator did its prey. you just knew you had to have her.

with a few drinks in your system, you found your bodies orbiting around each other until you were innocently conversing. teasingly complimenting her costume. boldly wrapping an arm around her shoulder whispering such daring things that had her blushing.

she'd let the words sink in as she bit her lip curling her arm around your waist. her fingers bunched the fabric of your costume causing the dress to ride up. you felt a breeze brush along the back of your thighs and shivered leaning closer to her.

she'd taken off her cowgirl hat, placing it on your head to which you'd scrunched your nose and giggled. the act so minuscule yet so meaningful. she was flirting back.

it'd felt like an eternity. sexual tension building over an insane amount of torturous hours. it all amounted to your bodies stumbling into her room. her cowgirl hat still on your head. her hands gripping your hips. your arms wrapped around her neck. kissing hungrily and desperately. when her thigh brushed between your legs, you moaned clinging to the collar of her shirt.

"is that your gun or are you just happy to see me?" you teased in a hushed voice, but breathing heavily from the heated make out session you'd just endured. billie smiled and cupped your face bringing you in for another kiss as your hand traveled down to her holster. your fingers wrapped around the pistol's handle pulling it out as you backed away from the kiss with a devious smile.

you ran the muzzle along her cheek. the cold metal sent shivers down her spine. she absentmindedly opened her mouth. the pistol so phallic as her plump lips parted. you were amazed. so enamored you wanted to devour her. you wanted to ride 'til you couldn't feel your legs. 'til the only name you remembered was hers.

right now you were enjoying stripping away every little piece of the costume she'd so meticulously picked out.

you let go of the fake pistol and it fell on the floor with a loud thud as you reached for the collar of her shirt pulling her in for another kiss. it was sloppy, desperate, and hot as your tongues tussled. her fingers gripped your ass pulling you closer until your chests were rising and falling in sync.

you worked the buttons of her blouse. whimpering when you struggled to undo them. sensing your frustration, she replaced your fingers with hers pulling harshly on the fabric until you heard the thread rip; buttons popping off the shirt. you gasped with amazement and your mouth hung open as you made eye contact. a devilish look plastered on her face.

though she'd been of assistance, she was still letting you take control. you eagerly hooked your thumbs in her holster. it hung low on her hips. you had to have been a complete fool to not think that was the hottest thing ever. her slim waist and big tits in a pretty lacy bra. her leg between your thighs. your hips swaying as you pulled her closer by her belt loops. it was all so fucking hot.

your fingers fumbled with the buckle of her holster and she came to your rescue once again. fingers working it quickly letting it fall on the floor near the fake pistol. your fingers busied themselves with her belt. so many fucking layers for such an impatient person like yourself. you'd wanted to take your time, but as you were nearing her naked frame you were eager for more.

when the belt came undone, your fingers shakily unbuttoned her pants. lips connecting with hers just for the sake of touching. she cupped your face as your lips hung open and her tongue roamed every corner of your mouth. you tugged on her pants, coming down with them until you were on your knees.

you looked up at her doe-eyed, fingers hooking in her thong pulling them down her legs. your mouth hung open. practically drooling. she peeled off her shirt letting it fall with the rest of her costume before reaching around her back to unhook her bra. when her breasts broke free a small gasp escaped your lips and you tugged at her thong almost tripping her.

she ordered you to get up as she completely broke free of her costume before disappearing for a few seconds. when she returned, the strap hung from her body and her natural hair cascaded down her shoulders. you fisted the fabric of your dress feeling very much overdressed and underfucked.

"strip," billie instructed motioning to your clothes. you tugged at the zipper on the side of your body letting the dress fall and pool at your feet. the only thing that clung to your body was your underwear, but those too were instructed to be removed by billie who was now sitting at the edge of the bed. you reached for the cowgirl hat you were still wearing, but she held her hand up.

"keep it on," she commanded in a raspy voice.

"and show me how you ride," she teased motioning towards her lap as your eyelids fluttered, completely stunned. she was in total control, yet made you feel like you were the one calling the shots. you approached her slowly. knees sinking into the mattress at either side of her body.

she held the fake dick as you slid onto it. face contorting with pleasure as she stretched you so deliciously. your lips parted as you looked into her eyes. pussy swallowing her whole as you planted your ass on her lap. cock erect against your cervix. you sat for a few seconds adjusting.

when you started swaying your body, billie snarled and leaned back placing a hand behind her head to admire the view. she watched the way you moved so seductively. selfishly swaying for your pleasure. she placed one hand on your hip. it lived there and burned from the touch of your scorching skin as you moved back and forth in an enchanting dance.

you leaned forward placing your hands under her breasts as you lifted your ass each time you swayed. the new movement hit a place so yummy you were biting your lip so hard you were on the verge of drawing blood. you were practically bouncing on her cock and she grunted each time your ass landed on her lap until you were a whimpering mess. you hung your head low as your nails dug into her skin.

her hands cupped your ass. they moved with the beat of your bounces until you were sitting up again. lips parted beautifully as the softest yet sexiest sounds escaped your body. you rutted your hips against hers, her cock rubbing so gloriously on your cervix.

you were so fucking close you could hardly keep your eyes open. when you tossed your head back in pleasure the cowgirl hat nearly slid off. you placed a hand on top of your head holding the hat in place before looking down at her.

her eyes were wild. she was biting her lip. she looked flushed. cheeks pink as her hair tangled under the weight of your heaving bodies. you clung to the cowgirl hat swaying faster. bouncing harder. moaning louder. maintaining eye contact with billie who had since captured a picture of the scene in her mind to store for later.

just pretty girl riding her into oblivion.

diaween 2024 🧡

[these-lovely-monsters]

Tentacles Under The Bed - Part 4

[NSFW | 18+]

Characters: gn!tentacle monster x f!reader

Content: tentacles, eldritch monster, blow job, deep throating

A/N: If you were missing the tentacle smut in part 3, don't worry, I got you :)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

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Smiling faintly, you give Karl another kiss, lingering a bit longer this time. After a moment, you feel its mouth part and something soft and wet strokes against your lips. Realizing that it's Karl’s tongue, you open for it. It immediately dives in, curling and twisting around your own tongue.

You groan softly at the sensation and return its strokes with licks of your own. Even though you can’t get too close to Karl’s mouth for fear of its razor sharp teeth, you’re perfectly happy with this alternative version of a kiss. 

Deciding to be a little bold, you wrap your lips around Karl’s tongue and suck gently. Suddenly, a melodic humming sound fills the room and it takes you a moment to realize that the noise is coming from Karl. This must be its sound of pleasure and it’s strangely beautiful.

Pulling back to catch your breath, you place your hand on Karl to keep it from chasing your mouth. You’re surprised to find that its surface is spongy and soft but solid. Not at all what you expected from its goo-like appearance.

“No. Give me more, my little delicacy.” Karl protests.

Laughing, you reply, “I guess you like that, huh? We can do more of that soon but I…” You fidget with your hands, unsure how to ask for what you want. “I want to touch you. To…make you feel good like you did for me.”

Karl perks up at that. “You want to touch me?”

“Yeah, if that’s alright with you?”

Without replying, Karl leans back and you watch as a vertical slit opens in the lower middle portion of its body. A new, lighter colored tentacle emerges from the gap and sways in the air in front of you. In addition to the color, this tentacle is different from the others. It’s smaller and thinner than the rest and it has no suckers lining it. The end is also slightly enlarged in a club shape rather than a tapered point.

It almost reminds you of one of the fantasy dildos you’ve been wanting to buy online and you blush again. At the thought, you realize that you’re not actually sure what gender Karl is so you ask awkwardly, “Karl, is that a—is this your…?”

“This is how we transfer sperm to another for procreation—a penis as you would call it. But each of our kind has both reproductive organs.” It says as it waves its new tentacle in the air.

"Oh, I mean—then what are your pronouns?"

“My species does not have the concept of gender. Whatever you would like to call me is fine.”

“Ok so is ‘they/them’ alright?”

“Ye—yes” Karl stutters out as you reach down and stroke a finger along their cock, finding it slick and moist. You wrap your hand around their length and pump up and down once. The humming sound fills the room again and you smile at their obvious pleasure.

For a few minutes, you continue to stroke their cock, squeezing harder and increasing your pace. Using your other hand, you reach down and tease your fingers along the slit around the base of their cock. They shudder in response and the humming increases in volume.

Wanting to give them even more, and maybe selfishly wanting a taste for yourself, you drop down to your knees on the soft plush carpet.

“What are you—” They don’t manage to get anything else out as you tentatively lick at the club-shaped tip. The slick substance coating their cock is sweet and creamy, almost like vanilla frosting. The humming stutters at the action and you do it again, surprised but delighted at the odd flavor. Noticing a small slit on the tip, you probe it with your tongue and the hum deepens.

As you lick and suck at the tip, you continue to stroke and tease the rest of their cock with your hands. When a clear glittering substance begins to well in the slit, you lap it up eagerly, the taste of vanilla bursting on your tongue. You moan in pleasure at the deliciously sweet flavor and dive back in for more.

Eventually, once you’ve become more comfortable with this new cock, you open your mouth and take it as far in as it will go. Hollowing your cheeks, you suck hard as you bob your head up and down while swirling your tongue along the underside.

“Yes,” Karl’s voice echoes in your mind, more guttural now. “Let me have more.”

Before you can ask what they mean, a tentacle wraps around the back of your head as they hold you in place while their cock slides down into your throat. You gag at the intrusion, wanting to pull away, but a part of you loves that they’re taking control like this. You brace your hands on their soft body for support and try to relax, letting them have their way with you.

They pull out again, allowing you to breathe for a moment before shoving back in even deeper this time. As they fuck your mouth, going deeper with each thrust, another tentacle wraps around your neck. They don’t squeeze though and you realize that they’re feeling the bulge of their cock as it slides in and out.

Wetness is dripping between your thighs at being used as a fuck toy for this giant tentacle monster and you squirm, trying to find some relief. But you’re determined to give Karl their pleasure this time so you just squeeze your thighs together and enjoy the erotic scene.

Tears are streaming down your face from fighting the gags wanting to climb up your throat and snot is pouring from your nose. You probably look like a mess but you don’t care as long as Karl doesn’t stop. Noticing the wetness on your face, they reach up with a tentacle and gently rub at the moisture on your skin. Another tentacle reaches up and traces the edge of your lips which are stretched wide around its cock.

“I do not want to see you cry but I love the taste of your tears.”

Moaning at their words, you swallow convulsively. The humming noise intensifies with a new, much deeper, thrumming sound that harmonizes with the melodic notes. When you feel Karl’s cock begin to swell, the sounds filling the room speed up and you think they might be close.

Within a few moments, their thrusting becomes jerky until they stop fully, holding their cock deep inside your throat. It suddenly starts undulating and you feel a thick, cool substance sliding down your esophagus and filling your stomach. It feels as if it goes on forever until finally the humming subsides and Karl gently eases themself from inside you.

Slumping back, you cough and wipe at your wet cheeks. Your throat is raw and your underwear is completely soaked but you’re entirely satisfied at getting to do something for Karl this time.

They reach out tentatively to stroke your neck and ask softly, “Did I hurt you?”

Smiling, you place a hand on their tentacle and squeeze gently. “No, I liked that a lot. Was it…ok for you?”

“Yes my sweet. It was the most exquisite thing I have ever experienced aside from watching you come apart on my tentacles.”

⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ● ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋅ ⋆

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

taglist: @blushycadaver @pearlofrose @gothicsugarslvt

[whumpster-fire]

Yet another reason T. T. Sutherland is a coward and a fool for going "Peril has never been touched in battle before, the dragonflame cactus was her first time experiencing real pain" and I refuse to accept it as canon:

Cooler Headcanon: the reason Peril immediately had the idea of burning the venom out of Clay's wound when he got bitten by the Dragonbite Viper was because she's had to do that to herself after getting puncture wounds from sandwings that injected venom past the superheated layer of skin. It didn't do as much damage to her as it did to Clay because Peril's pretty much completely fireproof even under the skin, so the scars are pretty small and not that noticeable, but she does have a few.

The couple times she de-venomed herself during a battle were pretty much the most metal thing ever to happen in Scarlet's arena. A dragon getting an apparently mortal wound, jamming her claws right into the open wound, writhing on the sand in apparent death throes, and then after like a minute getting back up with "smoke" rising from her eyes and nose as well as the bloody, sizzling puncture, and proceeding to limp across the arena and utterly destroy her terrified opponent.

The dragons she was fighting didn't try to finish her off because they'd already severely burned their tail barbs and probably talons and wings doing it and weren't going to risk getting hurt even worse by a dying dragon. Then of course when their one hope of killing her turned out not to work they kind of lost the will to live.

This contributed significantly to Peril's reputation as an invincible monster, but on the other hand seeing the queen's champion curled in a fetal position, screaming, sobbing and obviously trying not to pass out, made some of the spectators present for those fights somewhat remember that this was a 2-3 year old dragonet being thrown in the arena with full grown adult enemy soldiers, which was pretty messed up even if the small child kept winning. These feelings of sympathy were often diminished a bit by what Peril did to her opponents afterward, but Queen Scarlet was still not pleased, and after it happened two or three times she got a supply of the antidote cactus for "if a guard accidentally gets gotten by a sandwing prisoner" purposes.

Ruby absolutely never saw this because she made a point of watching fights in the arena as little as possible, especially Peril's for obvious reasons.

On the other hand I just thought of the perfect explanation for why Carnelian was like "I wonder if she remembers me?" when Peril showed up at JMA instead of freaking out like most of the dragons there. At some point, early in her career as a child soldier before she ended up in Ruby's unit, she was working in the palace and got voluntold to help out during an incident when Peril got stabbed in the shoulder or something where she couldn't reach with her claws so somebody had to very carefully burn the venom out with a red hot nail and a pair of tongs. Carnelian's actual job was probably something like holding a bucket of water and pouring it on the spear haft a third dragon was holding Peril's wing closed with, but she met Peril in a vulnerable state when she wasn't trying to perform for the crowd, and also saw her trying really hard to avoid accidentally injuring anyone, which led to her being one of a small number of skywings who are capable of being normal about Peril.

[lexirosewrites]

Not a story just me coming on air to say that I LOVE confident Omegan Steve/Pathetic Wet Cat Alpha Eddie.

Omega Steve Harrington who is a Bitch with a capital B to anyone he deems outside of his pack. Who loves that he's bigger and harrier than most Omegas. Steve who knows he's hot hot as hell with a magic pussy and takes any Alpha he wants (surprisingly few, he has standards) and brutally shoots down the rest.

And pathetic Alpha Eddie who has a cigarette and rain smell that is off putting to most and as the resident freak of Hawkins is terminally bitchless. He has absolutely no game and his proclivity for theatrics and general lack of self awareness results in one extremely clumsy Alpha tripping over himself all the time.

Eddie is truly not on Steve's radar at all until the pups join Hellfire at which point Steve gets confronted with big wet eyes, frizzed out curls, and big flailing theatrics and thinks oh yeah, this one is mine.

Steve delights in Eddie's dear in headlights look anytime he starts very obviously flirting with him. When Eddie finally gets with the program and realizes this is actually happening he's all tripping over himself with blatant adoration and earnest, but often cringey, displays of devotion. When they get together, turbo virgin Eddie is literally salivating at the mouth lapping up Steve's pussy with a big wet tonge with absolutely no finesse while Steve calls him his good puppy.

They are so disgustingly in love for the rest of their lives.

amazing 10/10 no notes😙❤️👌

[satoruhour]

Satoru wanting to bang his gorgeous girlfriend but he also gets off on delayed gratification and making her beg so he keeps refusing to fuck her even though she begs for it. When he finally gives in, it’s a wild time!

a/n: this was a ride thank u anon 🫣🫣🫣

warnings: fem!reader, orgasm denial / delayed gratification, pet names, use of ‘slut’, light bondage, begging, fingering, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, implied multiple rounds, implied overstimulation, n*sfw under the cut

a giggle escapes from satoru’s lips when he sees your sweaty chest heave up and down, wrists tied together loosely with some rope to hold you in place. but even that doesn’t prevent you from thrashing around on the bed, face contorting into a desperate plea for him to stop teasing.

“needy lil thing, aren’t you?” gojo hovers over you with his lanky body, perfect physique paired with a pretty face that you always find yourself giving into his ways ever so often. on your desk there’s an essay begging to be finished, and yet with one touch from him, you’re melting into him.

“abandoned your little assignment just for me.”

you’re whining incoherently, making no move to admit to your hormones despite not being gagged. satoru hums in reply, a hand trailing down to your neglected cunt which he’s already edged you twice; he sits on his heels to admire his work.

“i need you to tell me what you want, baby.” you huff out softly, not daring to speak. you settle just for pulling him with your legs instead and he knows what you want, he just likes to make you work for it. gojo smiles upon seeing your frustrated face morph into pleasure when he traces a finger along your folds.

he whistles, “so wettt . . too bad i’m not too sure what my slut wants.”

“’toru— y-you ass!” you scoff out with a choked moan when he teases his finger around your clenching hole. you’ve soaked past the sheets now and all you can do is mumble to yourself in hopes that he’d hear.

“wantyoutofuckme . .”

satoru is insufferable, humming exaggeratedly with a hand to his ear and a shit-eating grin. “what was that?”

you sigh, eyes breaking contact with his because of the sheer embarrassment and he tuts a little in disappointment. despite it, he’s giving it to you bit by bit; one finger in you, and a second, curling it so well that your back arches and you hear the creak of the headboard behind you; your mouth falls open in a silent moan.

“you’ve gotta stop being concerned with people hearing us, sweets.”

you scoff, “yeah, easy for you to say. you’re part of the dormitory counc—!” your own whimper cuts you off when he slaps your pussy, loving the way your juices accentuate the wetness. his fingers move slowly, quelling the dissatisfaction minimally.

“hear this? this pussy is just begging to be fucked . .” gojo pouts, getting real close to your cunt and the hot breath has you squirming before he lifts his hand and punctuates each word with a slap to your clit —

“but.” slap! “she’s.” slap! “not.” slap! “begging.” slap! “right!” slap!

— and it has you moaning out loud each time, tears filling your eyes at the pleasure you’ve been chasing so much and yet isn’t granted to you. you try again, cheeks burning with vulnerability.

“p—please . . satoru . .” again, he teases you, taking his already hard cock and slapping it against your folds. the slick noises make you flustered, but your boyfriend isn’t having any of it — he sees how you bound hands reach out and leans forward to kiss you, grabbing your chin with his hand and forcing you to look at him and he tries to resist fucking you senseless.

“please what? beg.” he knows you’re liking it from how your pussy flutters against his shaft and the neediness of your hips moving into his, and possibly the literal hearts in your pupils. he runs his thumb over your lips, dipping inside and dragging your jaw out that it muddles your words and renders it fairly incomprehensible.

“p . .please, satoru! pleaseplease fuck me—” you press your tongue against his thumb, sucking a little. gojo closes his eyes and swallows momentarily, willing himself not to stare at the drool, “wan’ you deep in me, wan’ your cum spillin’ outta m—!”

“s-shit . .” and satoru swears when he rams into you without warning, and you tense against the bonds at the sensation. his mouth falls open at the first thrust, the constant denied orgasms making your cunt just so slick and sloppy that it’s gross how much of your arousal spurts and sprays everywhere.

“f—full . . s’full!” you babble, fingers barely catching some white strands of his hair because you need something to hold on to, so your lover messily undoes his knots and you’re quick to pull him down for a sloppy, saliva-filled kiss as gojo’s hips stutter and fumble in you, because for as much as he liked to tease you, nothing compared to being in you. “satoru, satoru, satoruuu—!”

“fuckin’ slut, can’t keep her mouth shut o-once— haah . . once she has a dick in her, can she?” gojo taunts you with a laugh, pulling away from the kiss to push your legs to your chest and angles his hips, “how’s this?”

you’re whining loudly into the bedroom, hands scrambling to grab something when his cock reaches the deepest parts of you, cockhead kissing your cervix lightly. with each drag of his length along your gummy walls, it only urges satoru to his high as with you, abruptly drawn out of you when gojo presses his fingers into your clit and you’re clenching so so tightly.

“tha’s it . . cum all over this cock— give it all t’me, sweetheart,” he grunts out, engrossed in the lewdness of it all as his hands only push your plush thighs more and more into your tits and soon enough you’re cumming with the messy circles he leaves on your bundle of nerves.

“y—yes! r-right there, right there!” your brain has turned to mush the moment you reach your climax, body trembling so much from the intensity of it that you don’t realise satoru’s cumming deep in your cunt right after, breeding you until it spills out. you let out a surprised squeal when he flips you over and drags your ass up.

“we ain’t done just yet, darling,” a fitting gift for his baby who’s waited for so long; he smears the cum all around your core, grinding his pulsing, sensitive tip against your entrance and you whine into the sheets. “needa reward you for doing so well.”

request something here

[thesimline]

1700s WOMEN - PART 1

The commencement of the 1700s saw women's hair styles stay fairly demure, but it wouldn't take long for them to become much more elaborate. The popularity for wigs in men's styles crossed over to women, and as such hair styling opened up to wider experimentation. The development of heated curling tongs - paired with wool pads and wire supports - helped achieve the voluminous dos synonymous with the era. CC links and reference images under the cut.

You can find more of my historical content here:

1300s ✺ 1400s ✺ 1500s ✺ 1600s ✺ 1700s

1 - Hedgehog Hair by Acanthus Sims

2 - Late Victorian Hair by Melancholy Maiden

3 - Rococo Hair by Kiara Zurk

4 - Simple 18th Century Updo by Historical Simslife

5 - Le Pouf by Historical Simslife

6 - Small Louis XV Hair by Acanthus Sims

7 - 1770s Queen Hairstyle by Acanthus Sims

8 - Tête de Mouton by Javi Trulove Sims

9 - Baroque Hair 3 by In Love with the Regency Era

10 - Lilac Hair by Jelly Paws | Wavy Extensions by Casss Goths

11 - Small Louis XV Hair (A) by Acanthus Sims

12 - Princess Hair by Historical Simslife

13 - Rococo Hair by ZouYou

14 - Duchess of Devonshire by Historical Simslife

15 - Rococo Hair by the Regal Sim (Curseforge)

16 - Georgina Rococo Updo by Historical Simslife

17 - 1770s Hairstyle Tall Straight by Acanthus Sims

18 - Elizabeth by Melancholy Maiden

19 - 1770s Small Hairstyle by Acanthus Sims

20 - Marie Hair by Elfdor

21 - Josephine Updo by Historical Simslife

22 - Constance by Aniraklova

23 - Like A Virgin by Javi Trulove Sims

24 - 1770s Hairstyle Curls by Acanthus Sims

25 - Georgina Rococo Updo by Historical Simslife

26 - Small Louis XV Hair (B) by Acanthus Sims

27 - Catherine by Melancholy Maiden

28 - Tall Louis XVI Hair by Acanthus Sims

29 - Libby by Nightingale Songx

30 - 1770s Hairstyle No Curls by Acanthus Sims

With thanks to some amazing creators: @acanthus-sims @elfdor @javitrulovesims @zouyousims @historicalsimslife @aniraklova @nightingalesongx @the-melancholy-maiden @inlovewithregencyera

[rishabhshuklawinston11]

Curling Tong, curl it, style it. Create bouncy insta-ready curls in no time. FEATURES: 25mm barrel Multi-temperature control Tourmaline plates Quick heat up

[planet-dusk]

🏷️ lee minho x fem!reader. cw ; dom!leeknow, throat fucking, face slapping (w cock), dacryphilia, degradation, praise, cum eating, name calling: slut, whore, pet names: kitten ( 934 w. )

minors dni. for mature audiences only !

the surroundings were different, the motions the same. a hurried shuffle through back doors and glaring illuminated hallways while your heart galloped in your chest with anticipation, post-concert adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

another heavy door and it was just you and him left standing underneath the fluorescent lights. only a few words were spoken: your routine of sing-song praise about his performance followed by a lewd comment on your outfit (you dolled up so prettily for him); a pretense of normalcy before the frantic flurry of hands and teeth. 

“can’t even wait until we’re back at the hotel, such a desperate slut,” minho spat, no less aching than you were despite his tough act. “saw you at the barricade screaming your head off. everyone struggled to keep their eyes off these tits.”

he groped them roughly, then pushed you to your knees. you already knew what was coming and a spark of heat lit up in your core. 

the sound of his belt unbuckling, his tight leather pants sliding down his strong thighs. the sight of them was enough to make your mouth water. not unproud you noticed he was already hard in his boxers. he always put the concert fit back on after cleaning up; he knew what those clothes did to you. they made you want to worship him even more than usual. 

you reached out for him but he slapped your hand away with a laugh. “greedy kitten. don’t worry, i’ll give you what you want. you don’t even have to beg for it today... isn’t that nice of me?”

the taste was familiar and salty, and too big and too much at once — your mouth stretching around his length, drool already pooling at the corners. you choked around him and he sank in deeper, chasing the feeling of your tight throat. you felt another wave of arousal flood your panties and your empty cunt clenched at your pathetic struggle.

“look at you, my own pretty little cockslut,” minho praised while you blinked up at him through your tears, “sucking cock like you were made to do. such a filthy whore.” 

he pulled out and slapped your face with his cock, rubbing the messy mixture of spit and precum over your tear-stained face. you loved how rough he got after a show, letting his mouth run, how he used you like it was his last day on earth. maybe that was what it felt like to perform. he’d been giving his all the whole night; now it was his time to take. 

“tongue out,” he commanded and you obliged without thought, rubbing your thighs together when he let his heavy cock rest on your tongue. it jerked and twitched. the intensity of his gaze was almost too much and your face heated in embarrassment. 

“bet you’re soaked for me, kitten. just from me fucking your throat.” he pushed through and smiled when you gagged around him, letting his fingertips dance over the bump created by the head of his cock before curling his fingers into your hair. “too bad no one’s using that pretty little cunt of yours now, what a waste.” he pressed his shoe against your crotch and you moaned around him, eyes falling shut with pleasure. it was degrading and your face burned even hotter yet you rocked your hips, trying to get some friction. 

“pathetic whore,” minho scoffed and straightened his legs. he used his grip on your hair to move you along the length of his cock. drool leaked down your chin and you were positive anyone walking past would hear the wet gagging noises through the closed door. 

“just like that - fuck,” he hissed. he was babbling now, mixing more praise with his demeaning words, keeping your nose pressed against his pubic bone. you willed your throat to relax, chest heaving when he pulled you back. a long string of spit connected the head of his cock with your lips and you licked it off his tip, relishing in the sweet sounds he made when your tongue brushed over his most sensitive spots. 

minho looked gorgeous like this: head tilted back and his brow furrowed in concentration, traces of his dark stage makeup still visible on his lash line. he let you set the pace and play with his balls for a while, his feline gaze tracking every move. 

“you look so beautiful with my cock on your face, kitten,” he hummed, and you lit up at his praise. “even prettier when you’re cumming on it, though.” a whine escaped your lips and minho grinned. “suck me off and i’ll take you back to the hotel and fuck you until you can’t walk.” 

your clit throbbed at the promise and you put your palms on his thighs, letting him take over again. he bucked into your mouth roughly, chasing his release with faltering thrusts. you felt his cock pulse and twitch before he pulled back and spilled all over your tongue, cum dripping down and leaking onto your chest.

“don’t swallow.” minho helped you onto your feet, your wobble steadied by his arms, and licked into your mouth to taste himself. his thigh pressed hotly against your core and he kissed down your neck to clean up every last drop. he wiped your mascara stains with his thumbs, murmuring praises against your lips. 

“let’s get out of here,” he kissed you one last time before opening the door and dragging you down the hallway, not stopping until you were in the back of the car and he got your pussy wrapped around his fingers.

© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.

[phasecornnuts]

Hiiiiiiii! If you’re still open for requests maybe you might wanna write something where the reader casually mentioned that they/she had a partner on earth before they died and Alastor takes it a bit too drastically and has just been very salty and asking too many questions 😭 if you like that

Please & thanks ❤️

Hey guys I've returned! Sorry for taking a little while, I was busy with finals/I wanted to relax on my spring break so I didn't have a lot of time. I lowkey kind of cooked with this one too so enjoy :3

Also, I sorta made the reader be from around the same time period as Alastor (sorta late 1910s early 1930s) for extra spice

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had become a daily routine for you and Alastor to have afternoon tea together in cannibal town. Always, between the hours and four and six o’ clock after Alastor had finished his broadcast and you, your hotel duties, the both of you would walk down to Rosie’s Emporium to nibble on finger sandwiches, candied eyeballs, and other treats. 

The sun was still high in the sky, sending fingers of light through the windows of the cafe; the building was alive with the chatter of demons and hell-born alike. You and Alastor had just sat down, a short cannibal girl with a heart-shaped face and glowing brown ringlets placing your usuals on the table. Oh how beautiful they were! Too pretty to eat, garnished with tiny sprigs of mint (or, at least, it may have been mint) and resting on plates of delicate porcelain. With polished silver beside them, and matching teacups and saucers too, it all looked like a party for a girl’s favorite doll.

That is, if it weren’t human meat. 

Looking up from your plate, you saw Alastor turn his head to follow the cannibal girl making you frown. His gaze returned to you before he caught you staring, a chipper grin on his face as always.

“She could be a dead ringer for Mary Pickford, don’t you think?”

Your eyebrows perked. You hadn’t looked long at the girl admittedly, though you stared long enough to know that she was no Pickford. You pursed your lips,

“I don’t see it, Lillian Gish maybe.”

He looked at you like a mad-woman, “You don’t!?”

“No! Her eyes are much too large!”

Alastor chuffed, proceeding to rest his chin on his dark hand, “In the eye of the beholder I suppose.” 

You rolled your eyes, “You only say that because of her curls,” you stated while picking up the teapot and pouring yourself and Alastor your cups, “Now, drink before it gets cold.”

For much of your lunch neither of you spoke, merely enjoying each other’s presence while pecking on some food here and there. Throughout the meal the waitress brought more plates, pancreas tarts, minced tongues coated with cinnamon sugar, and sweet pies filled with rotted venison and cooked kidneys, all Rosie’s treat. Alastor had been taken by the small pies in their mulled deliciousness, the meat so tender you saw his eyes water. He pleaded you to try one, though you couldn’t, your stomach filled to the brim from the other treats and delicacies. 

Alastor picked up the small pair of silver tongs from beside him and placed two sugar cubes in his tea, “I do say, it’s nice to have a meal companion again.” He took a sip from his teacup and grinned. 

You nodded in agreement, lifting the milk jug from the table and pouring a generous amount into your cup. “Likewise. Good dinner conversation is a horrid thing to lose.”

“Truly.” He took another drink. “Before you, I hadn’t had a proper luncheon since my mother.”

“From what you tell she sounded like a fine woman.” His grin lost its eeriness, becoming fond instead. 

“She truly was, and such a fine cook too.” Alastor gazed at the fine pattern painted on the rim of his saucer, “her jambalaya was the best, our side of the Mississippi” he chuckled. He began to remember then, “And her gumbo and her crawfish etouffee and her pecan pralines”

It was odd to hear his voice so full of affection, but nice too. So strange, to think a man who broadcasted his murders of other overlords and feasted on their flesh was once a little boy who clung to his mothers skirt and happily ate her cooking. 

“Maybe one day you’ll cook for me then?” you teased

“Oh why wouldn’t I for my favoritest of sinners?” He took your hand.

You leaned in towards him, a silent flirtation. “Or perhaps I could prepare something for you?”

He looked at you from his dark, hooded eyes, a certain intrigue radiating from them. “Would you now?” he said, leaning in closer. 

“Oh I would, anything you’d like.” the tip of your oxford lingering at his ankle. “My food was good enough for my darling back on earth, why would an overlord of hell have any complaints? Other than not enough seasoning I suppose.” 

That was when the laughter in his eyes died. Alastor bit the inside of his cheek before finding the words to speak, “Your darling?”

 “Pardon?”

“You had someone,” He straightened up, pulling himself away from you, “back on earth?”

“I hardly see how it matters now.” 

Alastor’s tone grew curt, had such a simple word bruised his ego? 

He crossed his arms, “What were they like?” each word as sharp as his teeth.

You pulled your hands close to you, confused at his curtness, “They were….they were nice. Cordial, spirited, vivacious, however you would put it. If you’re-” Alastor cut you off. 

“How did you meet them?”

“On the trolley.” That only served to make him scoff.

“Tch, how common. The trolley.”

You chewed your bottom lip, trying to deny the anger towards him that began to knot in your belly. “It was a different lifetime.” You asserted, a hard finality to it. Pushing yourself from the small table you smoothed your skirt and adjusted the ribbon that was tied so nicely in your hair. 

Without looking at him you said, “Tell Rosie I’m grateful for her hospitality and I will try to find a way to repay her. Also that I’m sorry that I had to retire without saying hello but I feel rather…faint.” Before leaving completely you said, “See you back at the hotel.”

The rest of the day you hid in your room, sulking and pacing. Charlie had tried to coax you out, seeing how angry you’d been when you came back, but you denied every effort she had. 

“It’s not good to stay cooped up in there,” the Princess pleaded.

“I like my alone time.”

 “But- but I had games planned! Husk was going to show us how to play Blackjack and Dominoes!”

“I prefer bridge, and he’ll just cheat us anyways.”

She gave a disappointed sigh, and outside the door you could hear Vaggie talking to her, telling Charlie to give you your space. 

For three nights straight you avoided Alastor, finishing up your hotel duties quickly before hiding in your room. You grew bored after the first day admittedly, a person could only sleep and bathe and read so much. The fourth night is when he knocked on your door while you lied draped on your couch, your nose in a book you’d already finished before. Thinking it was Charlie, you ignored it, sure she’d get the message. It insisted however, rapping harder the second time. You sighed, annoyed. “Who is it?”

“Alastor, may I come in?”

A sour taste came in your mouth, “No.”

“You cannot lock yourself away from me forever.” 

You lifted yourself off the couch, full of bitterness, “I can and I will!”

An electric hum filled your ears, the sound of Alastor weighing his words, “Could you at least entertain my attempt?”

Walking to the door and opening it slightly you saw his face, those deep, hooded eyes dark as blood, cracked lips, and hollow cheekbones. All of those beautiful, haunting features draped in remorse. You sighed, cursing the affection you had for him. 

“Fine, but I’m still cross with you.” That made him smile, if only a tad. 

Opening the door fully, you saw he’d brought one of the dining carts from the unused kitchen clad in a clean white sheet. Alastor pushed it to the center of the room before spiritedly ripping the cover from the cart, presenting polished silver dishes of raw meat and organs. From the bottom shelf of it, he had pulled a fine bottle of wine and two shining glasses.

“I helped myself to a bottle of Husk’s finest, the patrons here don’t have as refined tastes as you and I.” He gave a small grin. So this is what he brought with him, a peace offering. Your stomach was empty from only eating a small meal earlier in the day, so perhaps it was not in vain, though you weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive him. 

“I’ll help you set the table,” you offered, feeling guilty he put so much effort into pleasing you. 

Alastor held his hands up, “No need darling.” He put his hand on his throat, “What I said the other day was very…” he coughed into his hand, “ungentlemanly of me, and I wanted to make it up to you.” 

You folded your hands and held them to your chest, looking at the embarrassment he tried to hide. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, and raised your gaze to his. “Thank you, Alastor.” His grin widened as he sat down beside you. 

He uncorked the bottle of wine, beginning to pour it into the glasses, “Of course.” He handed you the glass which you took gladly. The vintage was so dark it looked black, reflecting the lights that glowed from the ceiling. Swishing it, you could see the hidden shades of red that the wine hid.

“Demon’s blood, Husk calls it.” Alastor told you before he took a long sip. 

“Fitting. Do you know how long he’s aged it?” Alastor shrugged, taking another swallow. 

“I didn’t care to ask, but it tastes so good going down. Come, drink, I didn’t bring this up so I could get drunk by myself.” That made you giggle, how much he valued the both of you eating and drinking together. 

Taking his lead, you titled your head back, savoring the warm burn of the wine going down. Its hot fingers lingered in your chest before fading, like drinking cold medicine. In three large gulps you finished your glass, noticing the way Alastor’s eyes watched your throat as you drank. After finishing your second glass you began to dig into the food he’d brought, pancreas tarts, cooked kidneys and…oh good god! On the largest plate was a raw heart, fresh and bloody. 

“Where did you get this? You shouldn’t have!” Your eyes went wide and your mouth began to salivate. A raw heart! Oh and it was human too! Such a fine delicacy must have taken so much begging from Alastor!

“Rosie owed me a favor. And I owe it to you, for making such a jackass of myself.” 

You took another sip of your wine, feeling your face begin to flush. You helped yourself to a tart while Alastor poured himself another glass. As you ate you felt his eyes on you again, focusing on the way your teeth bit into the pastry, your swan’s neck showing your swallow, and how your tongue dragged across your lips. Feeling bold, you placed your feet in his lap and wiped the corner of your mouth with your finger, licking the tip of it with your tongue. He swallowed, hard, his eyes growing wide. 

“Are you looking at something?” Your voice a heavy seduction.

“Possibly.” He drank again. Leaning back on the arm of the couch, he placed his glass on the floor. The tips of his fingers grazed your legs, “Though I do have another question for you, if I may.”

A sultry smirk grew on your face, “That depends on what it is, Al.” God, you could see the glint in his eyes then.

Alastor looked up at you from his hooded eyes, “I’ve been wondering…about your “darling.” You arched an eyebrow; your interest piqued. “Did they ever have…you?” His breath shuddered. 

“Have me, how?” You teased.

“Oh humor me my dear,” He purred

You smirked and shifted your legs in his lap. “Hmm, maybe once or twice…” You sit up from your recline and crawl onto his lap.

“What sorts of things did they do to you?” 

Running your fingers down his chest you savored the way he squirmed and shifted, “All sorts of unholy things” 

Alastor choked on his breath, his eyes transfixed on your face. Slowly, he caught it, regaining a certain boldness afterwards. His hand found the top of your stocking, fingering the nylon taut to your thighs. “Getting rather comfortable aren’t we my dear?”

The smirk you had deepened and you pulled in closer, feeling the heat of his breath tickle your cheeks. You looked into his eyes, “I could get much more comfortable if you like, Al.” For what seemed like ages you lingered, until you felt you had tortured the man enough. Slowly, you leaned in, seemingly ready to kiss his shiny red lips. Grinning, you pulled a piece of dry skin from his bottom lip between your teeth, peeling it to show the bleeding flesh beneath. 

You sat back on his lap and spat out the skin. Looking at him, you saw that hunger in his eyes again. That fine line of decorum the two of you had with one another, ignoring the lingering gazes and longing touches, all thrown away with one bite. Underneath, you could feel his arousal beginning to grow hard. You rolled your hips slightly into him, earning a throaty groan from Alastor. From the silver dining cart you pulled the piece de resistance, that raw bleeding heart, and sunk your teeth into it, tasting the sweet flavor of iron. Trails of blood dripped from your mouth onto your decolletage, slowly turning brown and flaky.

Alastor’s breath heaved, growing even harder from that sultry cannibalistic display. He pulled you towards him and pressed your mouth to his, saccharine saliva mixing with sanguine. His tongue slid and twisted about yours, savoring every inch of its taste. You pulled away from him to catch your breath, making him whine. Leaning in again, he dragged his tongue along your neck, cleaning up the drying strings of blood. 

Both of you straightened up then, him holding you proper now. One hand ran its fingers through his shiny red hair and the other cupped his aching sex, so taut against his trousers. 

“Is that what you were so upset about Al? If they fucked me or not?” You purred into his ear.

The tips of your fingers fluttered over his hip, tracing its edge before returning to his cock. “I bet you wondered if I did this to them, didn’t you?” A small nip was placed on his neck, leaving a red half-moon. Your breath grew hot against his cheek as you whispered into his ear again, 

“Maybe I did, and maybe I did so many more dirty things to them.” 

Alastor enraptured your mouth in another needy kiss. His words heavy with radio static, “What sort of things my dear? Or are you all talk?” Your grin widened seeing the shock in his eyes when you began to unbutton his overcoat.

“Let me show you.”

Four little words was all it took to send him over the edge. Picking you up, his hands traced over all the parts of your succulent body. When he flopped you on the bed, hair as tousled as a pin-up, you reached out a stockinged leg to him, that devious look on your face growing. Oh how badly he wanted to have you, hastily unzipping your dress as you stripped him down to his undershirt and trousers. Deft fingers hooked around the tops of your stockings, pulling them down as fast as they could. You dropped his trousers and took off his shirt, admiring all of that soft, gray skin.

You pressed your mouth to the flesh of his stomach, blessing it with small love-bites that made him shudder. All along his torso you left red patches and traced your cool fingertips along the hard edges where his ribs poked out. You tilted your head up and moved his hands to the straps of your brasserie, exposing all of your hot, yearning flesh. He cupped a breast and lied on top of you. Grinding his sex to yours he moaned into your mouth. It had been so…so long since you’d been wanted, since someone pressed their body to yours and you felt all of their heat as they slid into you, over and over again. 

“Al,” You breathed

“What is it?”

“Get on your back.” 

And so he did. 

Alastor’s back against the mattress and your palms against his chest, you let him enter you. He let out a string of curses when you did, and even more when you started moving in those easy rolling motions. Those large hands of his held the curve of your waist as you rode him, his eyes half-lidded as he watched your breasts bounce. 

“The first time I saw you…” You began, going a little faster, “I wanted you,” You heard a small thud as he dropped his head against the pillows.

“I thought about you kissing me and touching me all over” That’s when the pulses of pleasure started to build up, prickling you in sweet needles that went all the way up your spine.

“And about you sticking your fingers in me and..and your tongue too” You felt your face heat up and your sex grow slicker, admitting those indecent thoughts you only entertained during late nights when your fingers wandered. Alastor gripped your waist tighter, making your rhythm harsher. You looked down on him, his eyes glazed over with euphoria, and felt your mouth pool with saliva.

Digging your nails into the skin of his chest you kept on. “For a whole week I couldn’t keep from slipping my hands between my legs.” Your voice, thick and hoarse. “I wanted to know what you tasted like, if-if your mouth tasted like blood,” that was when he quickened the pace even more. Your sex was so hot and wet, all the way at the base of your spine you could feel your orgasm coming to you, a full-body shiver that made your eyes well with tears. 

The last part was what sent him over the edge though. 

“Sometimes, I’d bite myself so I could taste the blood when I’d touch-” was all it took to make him come. 

Fuck it felt good too. A weak falsetto escaped your mouth when he released, so warm and filling. That’s what made you reach your end too. You clawed your nails in his skin so deep there were two broken half-moons on his chest. Your thighs clenched against his torso, quivering, as you could feel your body become as light and floaty as chiffon. 

Alastor let the both of you ride it out, that sweet joyous bliss. When your mind returned from the heaven it was sent to, you leaned over, resting on top of him. He moved you gently, pressing you closely to his chest. For a while, neither of you spoke, the air lingering with the smell of sweat and blood and sex. You ran your fingers through his hair again; He kissed the back of your hand before speaking. 

“If I’d known all that would come out of making you angry at me, I would’ve earned your ire a long while ago.” You rolled your eyes, flicking his chest playfully. 

“Perhaps we could do this again, without the arguing?” You propose, “You’re quite good at it.” 

A smile stretched across his face as he played with a lock of hair that rested near your face, “Expect nothing less from an overlord of hell cher.” One of his hands slid to your lower back, tracing small circles on that creamy flesh. 

“How about we try one more time without the arguing, for good measure?”

You smirked and kissed him again. All for good measure.

[incculum]

Miguel's suit malfunctioning and leaving a hole where his ass is and reader being the horny bf he is ends up eating him out before fucking him 🧎🏾‍♂️

Miguel O'Hara.

top male reader

nsfw | a little bit of man-handling | rimming | fingering | spit as lube | semi-public sex

a/n: semi-drabble, semi-oneshot. the original idea is so hot, thank you, anon.

"And I- shit!" Miguel interrupts himself, quickly pressing his hands against his ass. Despite his brief panic, he lets out a brief breath of relief, glad his back isn't facing you and that it was only you with him.

"What's wrong?"

Miguel typically shows himself off to be serious and cold, even with you and especially on missions like this. He isn't the type to lose his composure so easily and without warning.

"Nothing," he answers a little too quickly for you to take it as the truth.

"Nothing? Why are you so stiff?" You step closer to Miguel and he steps back an equal amount. "Seriously?"

"I am serious." Miguel responds, still tense and shoulders pulled back.

You sigh through your nose and turn around. Before Miguel can relax, you turn back and grab him, spinning him around and pushing him chest-first against the ledge surrounding the roof you were on.

His hands still stay pressed against his lower body, determined keep his pride despite the position you had him in. He glared at you, and it would have been intimidating if not for the situation. "What the fuck-"

"Move your hands."

Miguel doesn't waver, and you push him into the wall harder with a push between his shoulder blades, "Move them, so I don't have to."

He drops his head and sighs, glancing at you from over his shoulder. He removes his hands from what he was so adamant on covering, agonizingly slow. Once he's exposed, you stay silent and Miguel doesn't look at you, lightly biting his lip in embarrassment. "..It malfunctioned."

"You really don't wear anything under that suit, huh.." You finally break your silence, brushing over his previous statement, and run your fingers over the exposed part of his ass. You hope Lyla made the smart choice to go offline.

You look back up at his face. Miguel is uncharacteristically quiet, still looking off to the side with the hope that you don't see his face begin to flush. You do, but you don't mention it.

"Let me eat you out, baby," you mutter, rubbing circles into his hips and watching his face.

"Okay," he whispers, half of him hoping you didn't hear it and will let him go with some of his pride still intact, and the other half hoping you will follow through with your words regardless. He glances at your face and knows what the answer is when you grin.

You drop to your knees and waste no time in spreading his ass cheeks. His hole twitches when your breath fans over his skin and his hips jerk forward when you press your tongue flat against his rim. You grip his hip in one hand to keep him still when you push into him and he wants to whine in embarrassment with how easily his greedy hole takes your tongue in. He settles for a groan in the back of his throat when you curl your tongue inside of him. You pull back to gather spit in your mouth and push it inside of his slick hole with your tongue.

Miguel moans lowly when you reach around his hips and inch your fingers toward his still-covered cock, rubbing him through his suit. He grinds against your hand and you let him, indulging yourself in him. You stretch him out with your tongue and he shudders, his claws scrape at the brick in vain when you pull off a glove and slip a finger in alongside your tongue.

"Fuck, just like that.." Miguel mutters, tied between pushing back against your fingers and tongue or grinding forward against your palm. You sense his struggle and push his hips back and forth, forcing him to ride your tongue and, now two, fingers. He groans and lets you guide him, moans raising in volume and cheek pressed against the warm brick.

"Keep... going," Miguel manages to pant out through already-slurring moans. Your tongue and hands feel so perfect and you aren't even thinking of stopping, anyway. You make this clear by lapping at his walls more desperately and putting more pressure on his sensitive cock when he grinds against your hand. You push a third finger in and pull back to finger him with scissoring motions as you look up at his shaking back. "C-close.."

"Go for it, darling," your fingers push against his prostate and Miguel unravels with stuttering moans and stuttering hips. You feel him tighten around your fingers and his cum soaking through his suit onto your palm.

You pull away and stand up while he's panting. You slip your cock out and press your slick lips to his cheek, holding his waist, "my turn."

[cevansbrat0007]

The Scent of You

Summary: Ari loves the sweet scent of you, which is why he's content to live between your thighs.

Warnings: Smut, Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Begging, Oral Sex (fem rec), Pussy Spanking, Slight Chase Kink, Light D/s themes, Minors DNI

A/N: Written for @curls-and-eyeliner. Hopefully this is okay, ya'll. I'm honestly not sure if it worked the way I intended. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It’s no secret that Ari adores you, but you’ve learned over the course of your relationship that he is particularly fond of the way you smell. Your natural essence of spiced, sugared vanilla draws him in like a moth to a flame. 

Which means he was always looking for a reason to touch you – to pull you close and breathe you in. Whether he’s hauling you against his broad chest to bury his nose in your hair while you’re cooking dinner, or he’s busy cascading soft, sweet kisses along the delicate column of your throat when you’re both snuggled up on the couch.

Your scent is like a drug. It calls to him – like a siren’s song – demanding that your handsome Bounty Hunter give in and help himself to his next hit. 

This man is hooked on you and it’s honestly one of the most exhilarating things you’ve ever experienced. Growing up, you’d never dreamed someone would desire you like this; that anyone would want you in such an all-consuming way.

“I’m going to burn the chicken if you don’t cut it out.” You hum, smiling when you feel his brawny arms tighten around your waist. “And then we won’t have anything to eat but mashed potatoes and asparagus.”

“Mm. Then maybe we’ll just have to order-in.” His warm lips dance along your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Beast.” You try again, intending to issue a light reprimand. Instead your voice comes out soft and breathy. 

“You can feed me my dessert while we wait.” Ari’s long, talented fingers travel to the waistband of your pink sleep shorts, lightly tugging at the drawstring. “Just think about it.” You briefly lose your train of thought as you find yourself trying to remember if you were even wearing panties. 

You’re pretty sure that you’d neglected to put them on again after your shower. At the time, you’d told yourself that you were trying to save yourself from having to make another trip to Victoria’s Secret. 

It wasn’t your fault that your Beast wasn’t always house-trained. He was the kind of man who had a propensity for ripping off your underthings and tucking them into his pocket. Which meant you often had to make adjustments to your wardrobe.       

And all of it because the scent of your arousal drove him wild.   

Your musings are interrupted when a sudden pop of grease splashes out of the cast iron skillet, just missing both you and your man. “Alright, hands to yourself now, Beast. We’re working around hot oil and I’d feel terrible if you got hurt.” 

Jesus H. Christ, you should’ve picked another day to fry this incorrigible man some chicken.

Ari nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck, gently nipping at your pulse point. “I just need a fix, baby. One little hit and I’ll be good for the rest of the night.”

“Ari…” You blow out an exasperated breath as you reach for your tongs to flip your meat. “You don’t even know if I’ve showered or not today.”

“Don’t care.” He grunts, one big hand reaching into your shorts to possessively cup your increasingly damp pussy. “You know I love how you smell. Almost as much as I love the way you taste.” Ari lips move on to kiss along the shell of your ear. A shudder courses through you when he tugs the sensitive load between his sharp teeth.

“I’m proud to wear my girl.”

Your thighs clench of their own accord, your empty walls clenching around nothing. Apparently your body was just as hungry for him as he was for you.

“Y–you can’t go around just saying things like that.” It comes out as a whimper as your cheeks heat, meanwhile Ari busies himself with grinding the heel of his lightly calloused palm against your already throbbing clit. 

“Why not, Duchess? Am I being too crass for you?” He teases as his free hand comes up to knead your breast, squeezing with just the amount of roughness he knew made your knees weak. “Turn that shit off and come feed me. I’ve been dying to get between those thighs all fuckin’ day.”

“But–but…” Your eyes flutter closed even as you reach for the knob that controls the burner, switching it off. Maybe he was right. You hated to waste this, but you could always try again another day.

Preferably on a night when your very persistent Beast was working late. 

“There we go. I knew my woman wasn’t the type to let me go hungry.” Ari murmurs, releasing his grip on your now very wet pussy in favor of tugging down your shorts. A growl rumbles deep in his throat as he watches them fall to the ground at your feet. “I knew you couldn’t be that mean.”

“You owe me chicken alfredo from Guiseppe’s, you animal.” You snarl, removing the pan from the heat. 

“Consider it done, baby.” You could tell without looking at him that he was obviously pleased with himself. 

God this man was an absolute menace. But he was yours, which meant you had to keep him. Hell, you were pretty sure that if you ever tried to put him up for adoption you were pretty sure he’d find his way home. 

Back to you. Wherever you were.

Feeling bold, you wiggle out of the Bounty Hunter’s grasp, only to be surprised when he lets you go. 

“Bet you can’t catch me.” You challenge, making a sudden dash for the stairs. 

Of course you knew he’d catch you. But sometimes you liked running from your Beast – because he was the type to always give chase which would only add spice to the proceedings.    

And just like you knew he’d be, your Bounty Hunter is on you before you reach the fourth step. A scream escapes you – but you both know it’s one of excitement. After all, Ari Levinson was every inch the predator. It’s why you lovingly referred to him as “your Beast”.

“Gotcha now, Duchess.” He hisses, a heady mix of exhilaration and pride coursing through his veins. And that’s when you finally notice the impressive tent hidden beneath the fabric of his light gray sweats. 

God, you had a feeling this man was gonna wreck you tonight. You just hoped you’d be able to walk in a straight line come tomorrow morning. 

Ari takes that moment to flip you over before gently maneuvering your body in such a way that allows you to slide down a couple of steps.

“Yeah, you caught me.” You breathe, your body aching for him. And then you part your thighs, feeling more than a little empowered when you notice the way his imperious gaze darkens with lust at the sight of your glistening cunt. “Now…what are you going to do with me?” 

Grabbing the edge of your nightshirt, you slowly pull it over your head, baring your breasts. If this man wanted you and was so willing to *ruin* your dinner for it, then who were you to deny him?   

Immediately, Ari buries his face between your slick covered thighs, his powerful hands coming up to quickly throw your legs over his muscled shoulders. A deep, satisfied groan of appreciation escapes his throat as he sucks your pulsing clit into his warm, waiting mouth.

“Holy shit!” You cry, burying your hands in his soft, chestnut strands. “Sir, please!” Your body begins to tremble as you’re treated to the most sensual of assaults.  

One thick finger gently prods at your entrance, seeking refuge in your slippery cunt. At the same time, you feel Ari release your sensitive bundle of nerves, content to lap at it with his wicked tongue.

“That's it now. Fuckin' drench me, Bird.” He orders softly, his voice coming out slightly muffled.

And then pauses he pauses again – this time to nuzzle his nose against your slippery folds. Your entire body quivers when he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent and reveling in your wetness. 

“My fuckin’ pussy.” Ari snarls, his flat tongue dragging a long, greedy swipe along your cunt. “Mine.” He pulls away long enough to slap your core in silent demand.  

“Fuck yes!” You agree, eagerly rocking your hips in time with each delicious lash of his tongue. He swirls it over your little bundle of nerves, making your toes curl.

“Would wear you all day if you’d let me.” His nimble fingers begin to work you over, stretching you in the way he knew would make you crazy. “Proud to wear my girl.”

“Omigosh!Omigosh!Omigosh!” You wail, your velvety walls clenching around his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you. 

“Promise to always feed me when I need it, little Bird.” You feel his teeth lightly graze your clit once more, loving the way it makes you thrash and moan.

That’s right. This man was breaking you down on your living room stairs. And it was so good that you couldn’t even be bothered to make yourself give a proper fuck. 

Dear God, this was the most exquisite kind of pleasure.

“Don’t you dare let me starve.” His fingers curve inside you, expertly finding your spot.

Holy fucking shit your man was making one hell of compelling argument, as evidenced by sweet cries and your shaking legs. 

“Never.” Your thighs tighten around his head, threatening to smother him even as you gush around him. 

Just the way you knew he fucking loved.     

“There we go -- yeah, that’s it.” Ari rasps, smacking your right flank, reveling in the way you clench around him as you continue to ride his face. Meanwhile, you’re busy writhing in your man’s arms, trying not to escape his grasp as that familiar coil of pleasure begins to tighten in your belly.

You know he knows you’re close. So he picks up his pace, clearly enjoying the way you’re coming apart under his feral loving. 

“I just need one good one from you – just one good one to start. And then I’m gonna give you my cock.” He increases the pace of his fingers, not missing the way your head is thrown back in complete submission. “And after that, I’ll order you dinner.” 

“Fuck, Beast!” You pant, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. "Whatever you fucking say - ooh!" Your open palm slaps against the wall as you try to run. But his grip is too strong.

Instead he simply chuckles before pausing his feast long enough to press one hot, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh - his teeth scraping over your damp flesh as he takes you higher and higher.

“And while we wait, I’m gonna go ahead feed you my cock.” He quips with a feral flash of teeth. “And don’t worry,  I’ll make sure you eat every bite.”

END

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[aceoflove]

The Bookshop of his Dreams - Bob Floyd x Fem!Reader

He wasn't like the rest of the daggers, always chasing the next hookup. Robert "Bob" Floyd wants to find a girl and settle down, and now that he is permanently stationed at Top Gun, maybe he can.

Fluff, 848 words

A/N: I'm a little rusty, so apologies if it isn't the best <3

Bob never considered himself a social butterfly, as he would rather read than go out to a bar on a roundy Friday night after work with his teammates, being left alone when they all find someone to take home. Even though he had been back at Top Gun for 3 months, being a back seater for Pheonix, he never really left the base, minus some small errands. After Maverick announced that the Dagger Squad will be a permanent fixture in San Diego, he could finally breath, knowing that he could get attached to his squadron and the town he has been living in. The military was always moving him around, as a top WSO, but a part of him wished he could settle down, stay in one place for a while and maybe find a girl, and hopefully this was his chance.

The clouds drifted over the sun and the rain began to pour, his feet hitting the ground at a steady place before the little bell above the door rings. He makes it inside a quaint bookshop, owned by a local family from what he had read. He was on his way over there, to find sanctuary for his aching heart when it started to bucket, drenching him to the bones.

“It’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?”

A soft voice drifts from behind the counter, a contrast to the sharp pitter patter of rain bouncing off of the shop fronts windows. Bob turns, spotting the person who spoke to him. The store was empty apart from the worker behind the counter. She was pretty, truly his type looks wise. A timid smile is plastered on both of their faces as he nods.

“Honestly it came out of nowhere. It was so peaceful on the walk over here until just now.”

A chuckle escapes her lips as she nods, her gaze drawn to the window where raindrops were racing down to the bottom. He was drawn to her eyes, her distracted nature endearing, he can’t help the smile creeping up on his face. She shakes out of it and looks back at him. “Sorry! Feel free to look around and if you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask.”

The comfort of the shop truly drew him in, the plethora of books adorning the shelves making him want to buy out the whole store (Although he doesn’t need to get any more books, his shelves were overflowing with poetry books, and any book that captured his interest). Each step brought him further into the atmosphere, each step bringing him into the enchantment of the fairytale in his mind. The shelves carved out of wood, the details making it feel like the shelves belonged in a cottage.

He can’t help but smile at how the book looks so amazing, the collection precise and diverse, curated with many interests in mind.

He comes back a few more times over the next month, getting closer to her, learning her interests, favourite books, and how the shop was her whole world.

His mind wanders back to the loneliness in his heart, how he wishes he could settle down, and have his own library, his wife curled up with a book, nestled into his side as his attention is taken away from his own book to her face. How her face lights up at certain parts and how he can’t help the love in his eyes.

Her face changes, warping into a different face from the one that was stuck in his mind. Her face turned up. He cannot think about this.

Bob was standing outside the bookstore, trying to work up the nerve to walk back in there after thinking of her for a week, his mind running in circles with different daydreams of what like would be like with her by his side, finally having the life he wished for.

Once again, the store welcomes him in, the warmth embracing him and her smile making him melt once more. “How’s my favourite customer?”

“Better now I’m back here.”

‘Now that I’ve seen you.’ The words were on the tip of his tongue, his heart pounding out of his chest as he flushed a little, heading back into the shelves he was familiar with now, as he could walk around there with his eyes closed.

The mind still wanders, seeing her at the front counter reading another book, flipping through the pages, most likely for a review from the shop. He could imagine her at his kitchen counter, reading and annotating while he cooked them dinner. Bob allows his mind to come back down to earth and he looks through the books once more, grabbing a few from the shelves, admiring the blurbs and the cover design. He makes his way to the front counter, back to the woman who captured his attention.

“Ooo! I love this book!”

She picks up one of them, scanning them for purchase. Her eyes lit up, his heart filled with warmth, an unfamiliar feeling blooming in his chest, and he knew.

‘I’m screwed.’

[thebearer]

Omg omg omg I LOVE your dad Carmy fics so much! And idk if you’re taking requests rn but can I please request a dad Carmy x wife reader it’s their little girls first birthday and one of the staff members gifted her a little play kitchen with pots and pans and she just loves it bc she wants to be like her daddy since she sees him in the kitchen all the time and she even “makes” him food and Carmy playfully critiques her meals😭🙌🏻🥹

“What’s this Teddy Bear?” It’s a sight to see. Carmen Berzatto smushed and crouched into a teeny tiny plastic chair, sitting at the “best restaurant in Chicago”… if the category was for plastic food.

Teddy babbled in the kitchen, flinging plastic lids and ripping apart velcro fruit and vegetables that she’s was “cutting”, before flinging the other half into the bin.

“Pretty angry chef.” Carmen muttered to you teasingly. “Seems like a hot head.”

“I just hope the foods good.” You played along, your own knees near your chest in the tiny table set. “She didn’t even take our order.”

Carmen snorted, looking at the small kitchen. It was a gift, from Richie of all people, for Christmas. He’d cackled when he gave it to her, watching as she giggled with glee. “Got your own prodigy now, Cousin.” Richie grinned.

Carmen didn’t realize how much Teddy caught on to in the kitchen until she’d carry her little plates and shout “corner!” just like she’d seen her daddy do. It made Carmen’s heart melt, grinning so hard his cheeks hurt.

“Chef,” Carmen called, Teddy’s little curls flying when she looked back at him. “How much longer?”

“Jus’a minute.” Teddy’s tiny, sing-song pitched voice had your own heart aching with pure adoration, your hand smoothing down your growing belly. You hadn’t told her about the baby yet-she’d just became a chef, not yet ready for the title of big sister.

“All done!” Teddy brought the bowls out, an interesting combo of plastic clumps of peas, banana, and chicken in Carmen’s bowl. In your bowl the cut apple slices, carrots, and what appeared to be a Barbie doll shoe.

“Thank you, chef.” Carmen looked down at the bowl, raising a brow at you, biting back his own smile. “Chef, can we have a fork?”

“No.” Teddy shook her head, holding onto her little chef’s hat. “You no need fork.”

“Teddy.” You laughed at the three year old. “We need a fork, silly! How do we eat with no fork?”

“Hands.” Teddy shrugged, clambering back to the ‘kitchen’ in her little plastic heels. She returned with a plastic knife and a pair of tongs. “Here.”

Carmen looked at the small knife. “This is a weird place.” He muttered to you playfully. “Chef is a little pushy.”

“You’re telling me.” You grinned, using your wooden tongs to pick up the Barbie shoe. “I’m scared to tell her about this.”

Carmen laughed, nearly falling back in the plastic chair. “I’m sure it’s a garnish.” He grinned, making you snort. “Kinda looks like your pregnancy cravings.” He motioned towards his bowl.

You gaped, dramatically at him. “Watch it, Berzatto.” You but back a smile. “Before I make you make me another Nutella grilled cheese.”

Carmen gagged dramatically, alerting Teddy. “No good?” She asked, little lip jutting nearly pitifully.

“No, no, no,” Carmen said quickly. “Very good. So yummy. All done. Good job, Chef.”

Teddy grinned, giggling and throwing her arms around Carmen’s neck, launching himself in his lap. Carmen caught her easily, tickling her sides so she squealed. “Really hands on experience, huh?” He smirked, looking at you.

You posted this photo on your Instagram:

with the caption:

eating good tonight thanks to chef teddy bear🧸🍼🐣 five stars, best restaurant in the us. giving @/carmenberzatto a run for his money!!